Teach Me To Wait
by everyday-is-masloween
Summary: For Carlos, life was great. He had graduated early with his best friend and at 16, and had a full-time job. But will his latest mission as a doctor bring unexpected love?
1. Orientation

Teach Me To Wait

Carlos' POV:

"Hey Logiebear, how's the patient man?" I asked, clasping hands with my co-worker and best friend, Logan Mitchell. I watched as his face grew paler than it already was.

"Carlos...didn't I tell you not to call me that in front of, you know..." Logan whispered to me, hinting towards the secret love of his life, Camille. She wasn't even watching or anything, but apparently that didn't matter.

I laughed. "Oh please, she'll think it's cute." I say softly, before calling loudly to her. "Hey, Camille! Logan's new nickname is Logiebear, okay! That's spelle E-"

"Okay, Carlos, how about you shut up, and I tell you about my patient?"

I shrugged. Teasing Logan was fun, but there's always a point where I go too far and Logan chases me through the streets with an ax shaped guitar. (Long story.)

"Well, in terms of amnesia patients, this one's doing pretty well. She knows-"

"Ooh, so your patient's a _girl. _Is she pretty?"

"Carlos, she's 7 years old." Logan stated matter of factly, giving me the _you're stupid _look. "And besides no female will ever catch my attention-unless it's, um, you know-" Logan whispered awkwardly. He had a strange inability to say people's names if they were within a 10 feet radius.

"Logan. You can say her name you know. It's _Camille. _Camille, Camille, Camille. _I'm Logan and I'n in love with Camille!" _I mocked, a little louder than I should've. Camille turned around, checking to see if she was either hallucinating, or someone was calling her name. She shrugged and walked to the Intensive Care Unit.

"Good job, Carlos. Now as I was saying, she knows her own name and still remembers who her family is, and wants to see them again. She doesn't remember anything about the accident or how she got seperated from them. I believe after we take a few brain scans, we'll know what kind of treatment she needs, and then she'll be back in no time."

I smiled. Dr. Logan has solved another medical crime. Ever since we were little, playing Pee Wee hockey and arguing all the time, Logan still had that dream of becoming a doctor. He hasn't found the cure for cancer or found out how to resurrect the dead yet, but he was now a pretty amazing doctor. And not to brag or anything, but I think I'm _pretty _amazing too. When the time came for us to start exploring full-time jobs (which was at the age of 15, because we had such good grades, we graduated at 16), I found out being El Hombre Del Flaming Space Rock Man as a job wouldn't work out, so I went to this doctor's training convention with Logan. I only went because I was bored and Logan was there, but then I found out how fun and easy the job was.

So here we are the Loginator and I, being doctors together at _St. Luigi's Medical Center_. I'm not sure why they don't just call it _The Hospital. _

So today, I was getting assigned a student that needed to go through mental therapy and basic education. I didn't have all the information, but I was excited about getting to bond with a kid and help them improve at the same time. But hopefully it's a girl. That's _not _seven years old.

* * *

I followed closely behind Dr. Joshua DeLouise, an old (don't tell him I said that) French doctor who'd been at this hospital so long, he practically owned the place. He was the big boss man. He was really kind, and we all respected him very much.

"We don't have much information on this kid you'll be working with. Only the nurse who raised him, who is off on maternity leave, and the kid himself know the facts. Everything won't be completely accurate because the kid only knows what Nurse Landra told him, and she only knows what the anonymous woman who dropped him off told _her. _I assume the woman made up his name and birthday." Dr. DeLouise explained, stopping at the doorway of the designated room. I noticed we were in the Special Ward.

"Dr. DeLouise, why is he in the Special Ward though? Is he insane? Has he been diagnosed with any sort of disease?"

He sighed and gave me a sad smile. "As I said, we don't have much information." And with that lovely message, Dr. DeLouise walked away, and I was still unsure about what I was supposed to do when I walked in.

Deep breath. Here goes nothing.

I opened the door, stunned by the bright light from the window, which bounced off of the white walls, white ceiling, white _everything. _The only thing not white in the room was the kid-well not kid, boy. Maybe even man.

In the corner of the room sat a boy, that looked maybe about my age, dressed in a blue graphic shirt and skinny jeans. The hospital funded him with some nice clothing. And it wasn't the clothing that got me, it was the _boy. _He had long brown locks that swept over his forehead, tan skin, and staring hazel eyes. He looked sort of...beautiful. For a boy at least.

"Hi," I said carefully. He may be hot, but I still didn't know if he was rabbid or not. The boy, who was sitting in the corner on the hospital bed, brought his knees to his chest.

"Are you Dr. Garcia?" The boy asked quietly, but his voice sent a chill through thee air. It was strong and silky.

I nodded. "Please, call me Carlos."

He nodded in a sort of approval. "Carlos."

"Yes, now what's your name sweetie?" It felt kind of weird calling a boy my age-who was much bigger than me-"sweetie". But he didn't seem to mind. He mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"James."

Hmm...James...Fits him I guess. I approved, so like him, I nodded. "Okay James, well I'm going to need to know any information about you that you know, okay? Don't be shy about saying _anything. _It's just for hospital records."

I sat down, carefully, on the other side of the hospital bed. James shifted so he was sitting criss-cross-applesauce. And yes, I still call it that.

"Okay. My name is James Diamond. I'm 16 years old. My birthday is February 15, 1996. My parents, they d-died in a car crash-" James paused. I noticed his voice had started to weaken as he said that, and his eyes were tearing up. I put a hand on his shoulder, and he gladly did not bite it off. "An anonymous woman, supposively a friend of theirs found me in their apartment. I was crying, and she couldn't find a way to comfort me. She took care of me the rest of the day, she was a kind woman. But she could not raise me as her own. It would be too difficult. So the next night, she brought over here and left me with the only nurse available, Nurse Landra. She is like a mother to me, but now she is having her own child and can't see me anymore. Since she left, everyone here has been taking pity on me trying to offer up anything they can, but I _don't _need help. I just want someone who loves me again."

I stared into James' eyes. They were full of sadness, but he was smiling. I'm not sure how he could tell such a sad life story without bursting into tears, because all I did was listen and I'm about ready to start crying. Poor boy...who is actually _many months _older than me.

"I see," I whispered, finishing writing notes on my clipboard. "And excuse me for asking this, but you don't have any...known diseases, right?"

He shook his head calmly. Whew. Good thing he's not a nutcase.

"Well, why did they put you in the Special Ward if nothing's wrong with you?" James tensed and he gritted his teeth. I was about to rethink my conclusion that he's not insane and out to get me, but he stayed like that and didn't move a muscle.

"I am a special case." James growled, surprising me with his harshness. "They knew I wouldn't be able to live in one of those crummy hospital rooms with tubes and monitors and medicine, feeling like there was something wrong with me. So they put me in here, living like all the Special Ward patients...in a calm, plain environment where they make sure I get enough of everything, and people can visit me. Except, I don't have strait jackets or huge foam cubes on my hands."

I laughed at that part. But James didn't seem to be trying to be funny, so I shut up.

"Okay, I understand. Now do you have any questions about the learning and therapy procedures I'll be doing with you for the next few months?"

James looked up, as if thinking really really hard to find a good question. "Tell me your basic information. I want to know more about you."

I furrowed my eyebrows. James wants to know my basic information?

"No, I meant about the education you'll be getting. The whole basic information thing about you was only for hospital purposes..."

James scooted a little closer, turning to face me. "Well _I_ live in the hospital. And I want to know your basic information. Therefore, this is hospital purposes."

Well then.

"Touche'. Umm, well I am Carlos Garcia. My birthday is on December 19, 1996. I was born in Venezuela, but moved here to Minnesota when I was 2. I have no siblings, and I have a stay a home mom and a police officer dad. My best friend works here, his name is Logan Mitchell and we grew up together, playing hockey. We went to high school early, and then early college due to good grades. And here I am, being a doctor. Is that enough?"

James nodded sadly. I realized I pretty much just rubbed it in that I had everything he didn't have-a real home, parents, friends, known origin, an education, and a job. But all of a sudden he smiled.

"And you don't have any known diseases correct?"

I laughed. This guy was actually pretty funny.

"No...except sometimes I have the tendency to believe that I am a superhero and can actually fly. I don't think they've discovered that disease yet." I said, partly jokingly, but actually telling the truth. I've suffered through a broken arm, a broken tail bone, and a sprained ankle, thinking that I could fly.

"And one more thing." James said softly, looking down, hiding his facial expression. I cocked my head to the side in curiousity. "I think you're really cute."

I blushed bright red. James wasn't looking at me, but I was freaking out. He thinks I'm cute? Really cute? I panicked.

I looked down at my wrist, checking the "time" even though I had no watch. "Oh, well, look at the time, my shift's over. See ya James." I said in a rush, very un-professional-doctorly-like.

And as I quickly walked out of the Special Ward, through the hospital hallways, and out on the streets for my lunch break, his words echoed through my head.

_Tell me your basic information. _

_I want to know more about you._

_And one more thing._

_I think you're really cute._

It echoed over and over again.

_I think you're really cute._

_I think you're really cute._

_I think you're really cute._

I mentally replied to him in my head.

_Me too James, me too._

* * *

_Yay! Hospital Jarlos drama I thought of in my sleep! More chapters to come._


	2. Registration

Teach Me To Wait

I took a deep breath, waiting outside of James' door. Was I really ready to talk to him again? Either way I have to. It's my job to teach him and help him. I slowly pulled open the door.

"Hi, James." I smile softly and sit in the rolling chair beside James' bed. Here he is again, sitting in the corner with knees to his chest. But this time he had on a pair of khaki shorts and a yellow t-shirt that read "Camp Wonkey Donkey".

James looked up when I sat down, as if he just realized I was there. "Oh, hi Dr. Garcia."

"You can call me Carlos if you want to, remember?"

"I like Dr. Garcia better."

Okay, so the kid likes formally addressing people. I could live with that.

"Okay, then, I'm going to need to get a little more information for your records, and then I'll start discussing stuff you'll be doing and learning with me, got it?"

James silently nodded. Was it just me or did James seemed a little more closed in and quiet?

"Okay, so I need things like height, weight, original hair & eye color, blood type, and any other information you haven't told me. Also," I pulled out a small plastic cup and blushed. "You need to pee in this cup." James took a hold of the cup and examined it.

"What are you gonna do with my pee?"

I blushed again. We were yet again caught in another awkward topic. "Nothing. Well, not _me _at least. Whichever doctors are in the lab next to the bathroom will take it out of the cupboard and do...tests to it." James raised an eyebrow again, but nodded in response.

"Okay." James breathed out quietly. "I am 6'1'' and I weigh I don't know, like, 60 pounds?"

I looked him up and down. A kid my age that big with such muscles, was most _definetely _not 60 pounds. "Okay, remind me to teach you measurement and the metric system and what not first. I would say you're, I guess, 170? 180 at the most?"

James looked offended, yet confused. Words like 'metric' and 'measurement' might not ring a bell to him. After all, James was locked up in a hospital room without any teachers for all of his life.

"Hey! I'm not fat you know! Look at these washboard abs!" James exclaimed, and to prove it...oh my god. James lifted up his shirt, and yes in fact he had nice washboard abs, and started dancing around flexing his muscles. Maybe he was the slightest bit crazy...

I laughed it off, kind of nervously. I gently tugged his shirt down and signaled him to sit down. "No, no. That's a good weight for someone your age. You see there's three groups: underweight, average range, and overweight. And there's also perfect average." James blinked at me, he wasn't getting anything out of this. "Listen James, average is an estimate...or a summary of every number in the group. How you get the average is you add all of the numbers together and then divide it by the number of numbers you have. Like, let's say we find the average of the numbers 5, 3, and 7. 3 plus 7 plus 5 is 15. There are 3 numbers. So, 15 divided by 3 is..." I pointed to him, prompting him to say the answer.

Let's just say I didn't get the answer I wanted.

James looked at me for a minute, and I thought he was thinking hard, and just as I thought the breakthrough was coming...

"What's 'divided' mean?"

I sighed. Maybe I should talk to him about the overall teaching situation first. "Listen, James, this might be confusing at first, and it's supposed to be. It's hard taking in things like this. That's why I'm here. First we got to start with the basics, reading, writing & drawing, numbers-"

"I'm not stupid, I know how to read and write and count. I have to write observations in a notebook everyday."

"-I know, but-wait, what? You already know the basics?" I asked curiously. I thought know one had taught him.

James nodded and lay back on the hospital bed, probably bored out of his mind. "Of course. I read the posters and name tags. I hear how people pronounce things when reading. I study the clock. It's actually really easy to self learn. But...I'm still at a 2nd grade level. reading's confusing for me." James admitted, full of shame and blushing.

"That's alright." I whispered. This was obviously a touchy subject for him. "Back to basic information. What's your height and weight again?"

"I'm 6'1'' and apparently 180 pounds. I'm not sure about my bloodtype-and I'm not letting you get some of it-, my hair is originally more hazel than brown, my eyes have always been hazel, my dick is 10 inche-"

"Whoa, whoa!" I interrupted. "That isn't, um, necessary for the records."

"You said any information I know."

"Well, that's not what's needed right now, okay? By the way, did you measure it or something?" Just what I needed, another awkward conversation with James. "Who does that kind of stuff?"

"I do. It gets boring in here, you know?" James said, not ashamed at all. "And since I told you, why don't you tell me?"

I shifted, a little uncomfortable. Dr. DeLouise would _not _like to hear about this. Yeah I can imagine it now, Dr. DeLouise asking, "What did you teach James today?" And me saying, "Oh, not much, we were just discussing the length of each other's dicks." Yeah, no. But the thought was kind of funny. Without knowing, I laughed out loud.

James coughed. "Is something funny about that? Tell me." He insisted, staring me down with those beautiful eyes. I couldn't find my voice for a second, so I shook my head. Leave it to my 16 year old pupil to make me shy and awkward.

"Uh...8 inches?" I guessed, not really one to measure myself. "Maybe 9." James sat up in interest, disbelief.

"Huh. I was thinking you'd be like, 11 inches. You being Latino, and all." I was about to teach him the whole not being racist thing, but it could also be a compliment. I glanced at the clock. It was 3:00 sharp.

"Well, great talk, James...I got to go now. I'll go turn in your official hospital records. See you tomorrow." I rushed again, walking towards the door. I paused to smile at James. "And maybe leave out our discussion about our dicks from your notebook, okay?" I walked out, feeling really happy as I heard James' soft laughter as I left.

* * *

_Notebook:_

_Tuesday-_

_Today was my second day seeing Carlos. He looked cute today again. Underneath his doctor jacket thing, I could see a batman t-shirt. I approve. Nurse Landra used to give me comics, and batman was my favorite. And he gladly didn't mention the fact that I called him cute yesterday. I should've kept my mouth shut. I always do things without thinking. Just like that kid, Percy Jackson, in the book Landra used to read to me. She started that book right before she left, so I don't know what happens. _

_Back to observations. I have a feeling Carlos thinks I'm stupid because I didn't go to school. I told him I could read and write, but he changed subjects. I don't think he believes me. I hope next time he sees me we talk about something other than dicks and basic information. Oops. He told me not to mention the conversation about dicks. Well no one bothered to give me an eraser, so oh well._

_I wish Carlos wouldn't rush away. I like talking to him because he's the same age as me and is the closest thing to a friend I have. But by the way he runs away from me, I think I'll always just be a patient to him._

_No one will love me again._

_-James Diamond_

* * *

_Aw, poor James :( And the dicks...XD Please review._


	3. First Period

Teach Me To Wait

I poked James gently in the side again. He shifted, turning to face the opposite direction of me. Great. Just great. I had gotten up early because I had a morning shift today, without it occuring to me that James might be asleep. I guess I thought James never slept and always sat in that corner everyday.

"James." I whispered. Wait, why am I whispering? "James!" I shouted, causing some passing people to stare at me through the window. I ignored them, watching as James turned to face me and his eyes opened.

"What are you doing here?" James asked, sounding kind of irritable. I scoffed.

"Good morning to you too," I responded in a sarcastic tone, but laughed to show I was joking. "I have a longer and _earlier _shift today, so that means I can start teaching you and the-"

"I have to eat breakfast first."

I stared at him. Right. Breakfast. So I get an early shift, only to get to watch James chow down on leftover eggs and milk cartons? Lovely.

I sighed. "Alright then. Who's supposed to bring cafeteria breakfast to you? The cafeteria ladies? The nurses?"

"Nope."

"Then who?"

"You. You're my new mentor now, so I'm you're responsibility. So here's what the nurses usually do: go down to the employee break room and make me a mug of Brazilian Hazelnut coffee with 2 tsp. of creamer and sugar. And then get the tray from on top of the fridge and put the coffee and a plate on there. Now open the freezer and take out the Eggo waffles. Heat 2 of them, and top it with chopped strawberries and maple syrup. Ooh, and also add a cute little note on the napkin like the nurses do." James smiled sweetly at me like his request was the simplest thing in the world. He's lucky he's cute.

"Wow. Since when was breakfast so high maintenence?" Was all I could think of saying after receiving those lovely instructions.

"Like I said, I'm a special case." James said chuckling, waving his hand, signaling for me to carry on. He's lucky he's _really _cute.

I opened the door, only to run into Logan, who was all smiles while I was scowling and grumbling to myself.

"Hey buddy!" Logan called cheerily. He's been moody lately. One minute he loves me, the next minute he's trying to kill me for accidentally making his toaster explode. (Again, long story.)

"Not now, Logan. I have to get breakfast for Mr. Get-Me-A-Really-Complicated-Breakfast-Because-I-Say-So."

Logan shakes his head. "Aw, that's too bad. Camille called me over in a panic because they were having trouble with this guy's brain operation, and guess what? I saved him. And Camille _kissed _me! Can you believe it?" Logan ranted, absentmindedly walking down the hallway away from me. No wonder he was so happy. I headed for the break room, trying to remember James' instructions.

...

Okay, James' breakfast preparation took like 2 days. Well, that's an exaggeration, but it took a really long time. First of all, the coffee brewer is really slow. And the Eggo waffles were like rock solid so I had to heat them for like 3 hours. (Again, an exaggeration.) And let's just say I'm not the best at cutting fruit and the maple syrup bottle had trouble cooperating. In the end, I was so frustrated I didn't even bother to make the note cute in any way. I just wrote, _You better enjoy this. _

I balanced the tray on one hand while carrying my paperwork binder with the other, and I was quite proud because I didn't drop it. Last time I tried balancing stuff like this, I dropped a tray of "special chemicals" on Dr. Stetson's foot, and he had to give himself an operation. That's what happens when people don't tell me what I'm dealing with.

I pushed open the door with my shoulder and saw that James was laying on his stomach on the bed, doing something in his notebook. I set the stuff down quietly, trying not to disturb the boy. Which made no sense, because I was about to disturb him anyways.

"Hey James, what you doing?" I asked politely, standing beside his bed and trying to look over his shoulder. I caught a glimpse of a drawing. James looked up at me and shut his notebook, hiding it under his pillow.

"Nothing. I'm just starting my observations. It's a private matter. Only Dr. DeLouise can read them." James said urgently, obviously trying to weasel his way out of showing me the notebook. Before James could protest, I pulled the notebook out from the pillow. He tried to grab it, but I held it up in the air, out of his reach, like the big kids used to do with basketballs in school.

"Carlos, that won't work. I'm taller than you." James said matter of factly, standing up to show how he towered over me. Oh yeah. Oops. Before he could reach above me and grab the notebook, I turned my back to him as he gave up and sat on the bed. I grinned a crazily and opened the notebook, flipping through until I saw the drawing I had seen a little bit of. I couldn't believe my eyes.

On the page was a drawing-and an amazing one-of two boys, one with short hair and one with long hair,_kissing_...now I was absolutely positive James was lying when he said he wasn't crazy. The drawing was so good in detail that I could almost immediately figure out who the people in the drawing were. It was me and James. Kissing. And James had drawn it. I stared for a little bit, starting to imagine how it would feel to kiss James like that, but I snapped out of it. Blushing red, I closed the notebook and turned to James-who was also blushing-and handed it to him.

"Um, here." I said quietly to him, not feeling like a mentor to him anymore. This was awkward. I cleared my throat. "Anyways, while you eat breakfast, we should probably get started on lessons. So, eat your breakfast while I find the right materials." I rushed my words, trying to find an excuse to look away from James' and get away from all of the awkwardness. I absentmidedly thumbed through the paperwork binder.

"What breakfas-oh, right. I'll eat."

I reached in and grabbed a blank sheet of notebook paper and attached it to my clipboard, just doing random stuff until I was sure my blush had faded. I turned back to James, who was sitting up and staring at me, awkwardly eating his waffles.

"So, um..." I cleared my throat. "Um, today I was thinking we could start lessons. And since you're new at this, I decided you can pick whatever subject you want to know about."

James took a big dramatic Eggo waffle gulp and blinked. "Uh, well, I've always wanted to learn about the evolution of mankind. Like how did we come to be like this? What was the world like before?-"

I gave him an impressed look. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Vocabulary, man."

James took a sip of his coffee. "Uhh...sorry?"

"No!" I exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. "Don't apologize, this is great progress. I mean, like, _wow _you have great vocabulary skills. And deep questions, man! That's it, I'm giving you extra points for this." I don't know why I was so excited, but hey, that's what teachers are for. They overeact to everything you do. I wrote down notes on my clipboard and grinned at him. He was kind of looking at me like he thought I was crazy.

Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't.

"So let's start the lesson, shall we?"

James nodded slowly, looking a bit uneasy. I smiled and began to talk.

"So long ago, before there was men, women, and even _McDonalds_, strange creatures roamed the earth in the days when everything was mushed together in a country called _Pangaea..._"

* * *

Sorry for taking so long! I wrote the first half of this a while ago, but I JUST now finished it. My bad.

I'm pretty stressed because I have planned the WHOLE rest of the story, and there's like 15 chapters left to write. I'm writing too many stories at once!

-datsRUSHERiffic


End file.
